The Potions Master of Thornfield Hall
by notjaneausten
Summary: A young lady accustomed to tuition seeks position in a family situation, where children are under the age of fourteen. She is qualified to teach Potions, Arithmancy, Defence and general subjects up to O.W.L level. Address H. Granger at general owl post office - Jane Eyre-esque story set in the world of Harry Potter...VERY AU and OOC, so don't send flames complaining!
1. Chapter 1

_This fic has been rumbling around in the back of my mind for quite a while, so while I'm in the middle of a bit of a block with my other stories I thought that I'd post the first chapter or so to see what kind of reaction it gets._

 _This is a very AU tale based on Charlotte Bronte's 'Jane Eyre' – characters and certain situations from both that novel and the Harry Potter world will be interspersed with each other; although I'm loathe to classify it as a 'cross-over' fic as such. As always, your thoughts, comments and general feelings would be appreciated – flames will be generally ignored, so please don't bother if that's all you have to say….On with the legal bits…_

 **Disclaimer – I am in no way connected with J K Rowling, nor do I have a claim on any of her written works, movie rights etc…The work of Charlotte Bronte is in the public domain, but again I claim no legal rights to the situations, characters or settings that follow**

A young woman walked slowly out of the Headmaster's office, her smooth brow wrinkled in thought as she pondered the conversation she had just been part of. She was thinking so hard, that she nearly barrelled directly into Miss Temple, one of the teachers at the school and one of her closest friends.

'Hermione, you look lost in thought – nothing too troublesome, I hope?' Miss Temple, or Septima as she was to her friends, placed her hand on Jane's forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. 'Come, I know that you don't have any classes this afternoon, we'll go to my study and share a pot of tea.' The two young women linked arms, as they traversed the chilly hallways of the school until they reached Septima's small study. Summoning one of the house elves, Septima requested a pot of tea and a small plate of sandwiches. Once teacups were in hand, Septima pressed her friend for more details. Hermione sighed heavily as her fingers traced the gold rim of the delicate porcelain teacup and she set the cup down in the saucer, placing them both on the low table in front of the comfortable armchairs.

'The Headmaster asked whether I would be prepared to take your place as lead Arithmancy Professor, on the proviso that I sign a ten year contract,' Hermione glanced up at Septima and saw the other woman's saddened expression. 'I don't think I have it in me to endure knowing that I won't have you to confide in.' Hermione confessed in a small voice, and both of their gazes were drawn to the sparkling diamond that adorned Septima's left ring finger. Over the Easter break, the Arithmancy Professor had accepted the proposal from Ernesto Vector; an Italian that she had met several summers ago whilst on holiday in Tuscany. They had been involved for a while, but Septima had been reluctant to commit to anything long-term as Ernesto was based in Southern Italy and Septima was stuck in a cold Yorkshire manor house for nine months out of the year. Ernesto had broken the news that his business would take him over to the United States for the foreseeable future, and rather than lose him completely, Septima had made the difficult decision to leave her teaching life and accepted his proposal. They were to be married over the summer break and make the move shortly afterwards.

'Dearest, it doesn't have to be like that at all,' Septima set her own teacup down and leant over the small table to press her hands against her friends. 'I've enjoyed my tenure as a teacher immensely, but then I only transferred over when the Headmaster arrived, I'm sure I couldn't have endured it with Brocklehurst in charge.' Septima grinned a little at the grimace that flitted over Hermione's face at the sound of the former Headmaster's name – when Hermione had first come to Lowood at the tender age of eleven, the school was under the care of Elias Brocklehurst, a cruel man that preferred to rule with an iron fist rather than a velvet glove. It was only when an epidemic of Dragon Pox swept the school, and proved fatal to a good deal of the student population, that the governor's decided that it was time for a new Headmaster to take control. Professor Albus Dumbledore had agreed to take over the reins for a ten year period, leaving one of his capable Deputies in charge of his own school – Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dumbledore had brought a few of his own staff with him; Septima, who specialised in Arithmancy, Poppy Pomfrey, the school matron and a good number of house elves on loan from the kitchens at Hogwarts.

Hermione snapped to attention as she realised that Septima had continued to talk while she had been lost in memories. 'I'm sorry, Septima…what was that again?' Septima chuckled as she tapped her fingers against the back pages of the newspaper that she was holding.

'I said, why don't you try advertising for a governess post or something similar? You've taught everything from Potions to Healing at Lowood, so you've proved that you can turn your mind to anything…a chance to spread your wings might be the very thing that you need.' Septima's gently twisted her engagement ring on her finger and she smiled softly. 'I never thought that I'd leave Hogwarts, or Lowood for that matter…but when I met Ernesto I knew that he was the one person that I'd be willing to follow to the ends of the earth.'

'Advertising…?' Hermione's tone was doubtful and Septima chuckled again as she drew a clean sheet of parchment forward and scratched out a few words.

'It's not all lonely hearts and saucy suggestions, dear,' Septima said as she frowned slightly over what she had written. 'How does this sound? –

 _A young lady accustomed to tuition seeks position in a family situation, where children are under the age of fourteen. She is qualified to teach Potions, Arithmancy, Defence and general subjects up to O.W.L level. Address H. Granger at general owl post office.'_

Hermione ran the words over in her mind, and offered up a suggestion that would ensure her security just in case someone with nefarious intentions was looking for a young witch to seduce. 'What if we were to use my middle name and just my last initial?' Septima agreed and re-wrote the advertisement using 'Jane G.' as the name that Hermione would use, and attached the tiny scroll to the leg of her owl, Dega, and slipped a few bronze sickles into a small pouch which Dega picked up with his beak.

'The Daily Prophet, please Dega,' Septima requested, giving Dega's feathers a gentle stroke. Dega bobbed his head a few times, before soaring out of the open casement window, his broad wings opening up and for a brief moment his silhouette blocked out the midday sun entirely, causing a brief shiver to ripple down Jane's back. Septima cleared the table with a quick flick of her wand and then gave her friend a searching look. 'There's something else, isn't there?'

'The Headmaster brought up some things that I hadn't thought about for years, about my family mostly…I thought I had put all of that behind me, but it appears that some skeletons simply refuse to stay buried,' Hermione smoothed down the skirts of her simple grey teaching robes, and Septima saw that her fingers weren't quite steady. 'It seems that my cousin, John, has joined the Dark Lord's army…and my aunt was forced to face up to the fact that she was wrong about me her whole life, Professor Dumbledore says that she has contacted me to make amends for her past behaviour,' Hermione's face twisted at her last words, and Septima knew that her friend still felt bitter over being forced out of a family that had taken her in as a child.'

'And…?' Septima left her armchair to kneel at her friend's side, wrapping a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulder.

'When my aunt had me sent to Lowood as a child it was because she was afraid of what I might do, if I were to remain under her care,' Hermione spoke softly, her hands clasped together tightly in her lap.

'Unconscious magic?' Septima questioned lightly, and Jane nodded briefly before continuing.

'I had been locked in a room for punishment after I had fallen asleep reading one of my cousin, John's books,' Hermione and Septima shared a brief smile, both knowing that in their experience falling asleep over a book was probably one of Hermione's most endearing traits. 'I hated that particular room, it felt oppressive and I was sure that my Uncle Reed haunted it as it used to be his study. On that particular day, I was so overwrought that I managed to blast the door straight off its hinges…I woke up two days later after being in a near coma.'

'You probably deleted your magical core with all of that pent up anxiety,' Septima rubbed Hermione's back soothingly, encouraging her to continue.

'Aunt Reed had an apothecary that visited the family at home, on that particular day, Mr Lloyd had been present and witnessed my state. I didn't know it then, but he was actually a wizard and it was he that suggested a wizarding school to Aunt Reed…I'm sure he had no idea that Lowood had sunk so low since his time there as a child,' Hermione paused, her throat feeling rather dry. She conjured up a glass of cold water, and drank thirstily. 'Sorry, I've strayed a little…' Septima waved Hermione's apology aside and begged her to continue. 'Aunt Reed had always hated me, even as a child. It was uncle Reed that insisted that I join the family after my parents died…she hated my mother and insisted that I be renamed as soon as I went to live with them…and so Jane became my name as long as I was under her roof.'

'If she declared that fact aloud, it probably explains why you never received your letter from Hogwarts…it would have been addressed to 'Jane Granger'…rather than Hermione Granger and as Jane didn't actually exist other than in your aunt's mind…you get my point,' Septima mused, and at Hermione's startled look, Septima elaborated. 'You mentioned that your aunt wasn't fond of your parents, and that she was frightened of your magic….that leads me to believe that one or both of your parents were of magical descent, and probably your uncle as well. What were their names?'

'Eleanor and Felix Granger…they loved Shakespeare, hence my rather elaborate first name, but Aunt declared that as far too elegant for someone as scrawny as myself, and so she christened me 'Jane' instead, as she declared me a definite 'Plain Jane' upon first inspection.' There was no recrimination in Hermione's tones, and she'd faced herself enough times in the mirror each morning to know that the plain grey teaching robes that all of the faculty sported were not at all flattering.

'I don't recognise the names, but Hermione is a lovely name dearest…and I think it suits you far more than just 'Jane',' Septima brushed a kiss on Hermione's cheek as she rose from her kneeling position. 'I think you need to put all thoughts of your spiteful old Aunt out of your head, and focus on what you want for a change.'

'Exactly,' Hermione nodded and then rose from the armchair after catching a glimpse of the clock. 'It's growing late, I've got a study session to supervise with the upper fourth, and we'll talk more tomorrow.' Both women exchanged a pleasant goodnight and Jane left Septima's study, leaving the older woman sitting near the fire with a thoughtful expression on her face. After a while, she reached out for another piece of parchment and started a letter to her fiancé…perhaps he could use his contacts in the wizarding law society to find out more about the Grangers, and the circumstances that left their infant daughter in the care of the Reeds.

AN: So, that's the first chapter - I think you can guess where I'm heading…I'd be interested in your views over the casting. I've pretty much decided that Luna will be poor Helen Burns, the bosom friend of Jane's that died of Typhoid in the original classic. Severus Snape, of course will be Edmund Rochester. Any ideas on who should get the role of Mrs Fairfax or the others…what about Bellatrix LeStrange as the maniacal wife hidden in the attic? If you're having a little trouble with the characters a brief description can be found below;

Mrs Fairfax – Rochester's faithful housekeeper, served the family for a number of years since Edward was a small boy

Bertha Mason – Rochester's clandestine wife, hidden in the attic apartments since their marriage as her mind is twisted and evil

Richard Mason – Bertha's brother, who comes to visit his sister only to suffer from one of her attacks

Blanche Ingram – a rich socialite who despises Jane, and hopes to ensnare Rochester for herself

Grace Poole – Bertha's keeper, likes her drink a little too much and her carelessness allows Bertha to escape from her attic rooms to attack Jane and Rochester

Adele Varéns – Rochester's ward, and Jane's pupil

Other characters coming up in later chapters; St John Rivers, Rosamunde Oliver, Mary Rivers, Diana Rivers, Georgiana Reed, Eliza Reed


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you for your character suggestions; some of them were ones that I had already considered and others I'll bear in mind for later in the story... In this chapter we meet the housekeeper of Thornfield, who bears a startling resemblance to a certain Transfiguration Professor! I loved the idea of Sybill Trelawney as Grace Poole, but I rather like the idea of a sherry laced Sybill playing the gypsy that Rochester (Snape) brings in to amuse himself and torment his houseguests - but that's coming up in a later chapter so keep your eyes peeled!**

Hermione was grading her fourth years Potion's essays, when a shriek announcing the arrival of an owl from the post office gained her attention. She plucked a few owl nuts from her desk drawer and exchanged them for the letter tied to its leg. Untying the scroll, Hermione was pleased to see that her advertisement had garnered a response from a lady enquiring whether she could supply suitable references to act as a private tutor for a young girl not yet twelve years of age. The letter went on to explain that the girl had recently relocated to England from France, and her English wasn't quite good enough to attend regular school. Hermione grinned a little at the thought of finally being able to use the French that she had taught herself over the long summer months trapped within the confines of Lowood. The references were to be sent to a Mrs McGonagall, care of the general post office in Millcote; recalling a map of the British Isles in her head, Hermione placed Millcote to be around fifty miles from the Yorkshire Dales National park, perhaps on a free day she would be able to apparate there and explore the Dales as she had always wanted to do.

Hermione left her grading and took the letter with her as she headed for the Headmasters office. She knew that he would be disappointed in her decision not to remain at Lowood, but hoped that it wouldn't sour her chances of obtaining a suitable testimonial. It was with a happier heart that Hermione left Dumbledore's office an hour later, the promised testimonial already winging its way to Mrs McGonagall. If the lady approved of the contents, then Hermione proposed to leave Lowood at the end of June and journey to Millcote the very next day. Hermione hurried off to inform Septima of events, and her friend was delighted that Hermione had received a favourable response to her advertisement.

The rest of the week seemed to pass incredibly slowly as Hermione waited for news from Millcote, finally an owl interrupted her breakfast and Hermione eagerly tore open the scroll, a brilliant smile brightening her face as she read that Mrs McGonagall had been suitably impressed with Dumbledore's glowing reference and had invited Hermione to travel to Millcote on the afternoon of the 1st July to start her duties as governess to her new charge, a young girl named Fleur. Hermione drummed her fingers on the table and then suddenly left the dining hall, as she came to the stark realisation that it left her only three weeks into which she had to oversee her classes, supervise the end of term exams and pack her entire existence into her small carpet bag which she had placed an undetectable extension charm. While it was true that she had only two sets of plain, grey robes to her name (the school robes being impervious to any type of transfiguration spells), she did one set of dark blue robes that she kept for best…all of her other luggage would mainly comprise of the books that had been gifted to her over the years.

The last day of school was poignant for Hermione in many ways; she waved farewell to the last of her students as their parents arrived to escort them home for the summer, and then there was the farewell supper that she shared with Septima before her friend left via Portkey to join Ernesto in Italy where they were to have a small private wedding ceremony before starting their new life together in America. Septima hugged Hermione close before pressing a kiss to her cheek, whispering that the younger woman had better stay in contact otherwise she'd set a Doxy on her. Hermione gave a rather wet sounding chuckle and both women had to wipe their eyes dry before Septima took hold of the small book of poetry and murmured the word that would take her away from her young friend for a good few years; 'Portus…' In the blink of an eye, Hermione was left in her small study that looked entirely too bare stripped of her personal effects and she perched on the edge of an armchair still clutching her damp handkerchief in her hands.

'Bye, Septima…I'll miss you…' It was the second time in her short life that Hermione had been left behind by a friend. The first was when Luna Lovegood had been one of the first victims of the Dragon Pox when Brocklehurst was still headmaster. Luna had complained of feeling feverish and unwell for a few days, but the matron at the time had brushed it off as Luna trying to get out of writing her essays assigned as homework. Within a few days her condition had worsened, and she had died in Hermione's arms just a week after first contracting the deadly virus. Luna was buried in a small graveyard just a few yards away from the school, a grassy mound covering her remains. As soon as Hermione started working at the school she had squirrelled away a few galleons a month, and after a year was able to afford the simple grey headstone that now marked her friend's burial site, it was inscribed with her name and the word ' _Resurgam_ '.

On the morning of her departure, Hermione slipped out of the side door and flung a rather threadbare cloak over her shoulders, shivering a little in the early morning mist. She walked slowly through the school grounds and approached the gate that marked the entrance to the graveyard. The groundskeeper, Tom was already hard at work tending to the overgrown weeds, and he tipped his finger to his hat as she passed, familiar with Hermione's frequent visits to Luna's grave over the years. Hermione nodded back in response, but didn't stop to exchange pleasantries. She transfigured a small stone into a kneeling cushion, as she pulled the dead flowers out of the small vase placed near the marker and pulled a bouquet of cut flowers out of her cloak.

'Hello Luna, I'm sorry I haven't been to see you for a while but I've just been so busy getting ready for the move,' Hermione said as she pulled a few straggly weeds away from the bottom of the marker.

 _Don't worry about it, Nee…you're here now and that's all that matters_ Hermione smile softly as the wispy voice of her friend drifted through the graveyard and the mist swirled around the base of one of the larger tombs until Luna appeared, her silvery form skipping through the markers before coming to a stop at her own grave.

'Hi Lulu…' Hermione whispered, holding up her hand. Luna let out a tinkling laugh as she placed her palm directly above Hermione's and watched her friend shiver a little at the cold sensation that raised the hairs on her arm.

 _I keep telling you that it will tickle, but you never listen to me._ Luna skipped over to a slightly larger tomb and perched herself on the edge, kicking her small feet against the side of the granite. Hermione remained kneeling on her knee pad, reluctant to offend whoever was slumbering beneath Luna's spectral feet.

'Today's the day,' Hermione murmured as she nudged the vase a little closer to the middle of the headstone. 'I've asked Poppy Pomfrey to change your flowers every so often, daffodils and bluebells in the spring and lovely amber chrysanthemums in the autumn.'

 _But not lilies, I hate the white ones they remind me too much of death_

'No sweetie, definitely no lilies,' Hermione confirmed as she finished tinkering with the headstone and turned to face her friend, a look of sadness shadowing her eyes. 'What am I going to do without you to talk with, Lulu? Septima left for Italy yesterday and you'll be tied here…who am I going to tell my troubles to now?'

 _Don't be silly, Nee…I'm always with you in your heart and just because you won't be able to see me doesn't mean that I won't hear you_

'It won't be the same though, Lulu,' Hermione said sadly and Luna hopped down off the headstone to wander over to stand at Hermione's shoulder. 'I'll be miles away and you'll be stuck here, I don't know when I'd be able to come back again, if ever…'

 _Then let's make the most of this morning, and take one last ramble around the place_ Luna took a step back and held out her hand. Hermione rose up from her kneeling pad and one quick flick of her wand had it transforming back into its original stone form. They spent the next few hours roaming the countryside, talking about the walks they had taken together in the past. The chiming of the church clock warned them both that the coach would soon be arriving that would carry Hermione off to her new life, Mrs McGonagall had apologised for the old fashioned methods but had written that there wasn't a ministry outpost near the town so she had been unable to secure a Portkey and the Knight Bus wouldn't be at all suitable as Thornfield Hall itself was in close vicinity to a muggle village. Apparation was out as Hermione had never visited the location before and the nearest train station was more than thirty miles away in Ilkley.

Hermione left Luna with a tearful goodbye, casting her eyes back one final time toward the graveyard before Luna's form shimmered out of sight. Hermione wiped her tears away as she hurried back to the entrance hall to collect her luggage that she'd left ready by the door.

'Ah, Miss Granger…I'm so glad to have caught you before you left,' Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled under their bushy white eyebrows and he smiled cheerily as he appeared out of nowhere to stand in the small vestibule. 'I wanted to wish you a speedy journey and my very best wishes for the future.' He held out his hand to Hermione and she accepted it gratefully. 'I have taken the liberty of taking care of your coach payment…think of it as a small parting gift from the faculty, and should you ever be in need of future employment; either here or at Hogwarts, please don't hesitate to send me an owl.' Dumbledore pressed a small sack of coins into her hands and then passed over a heavy book wrapped in brown paper. 'Something to keep you amused on the journey.'

'Thank you, headmaster,' Hermione murmured as she gave his hand a slight squeeze and felt the pressure returned.

'It was entirely my pleasure, my dear….now, go on before your coach departs without you.' Dumbledore gave Hermione a gentle nudge and she stepped over the threshold of Lowood for the very last time. Stepping into the carriage drawn by four black winged horses, Hermione could see the ripples of magic that surrounded the whole carriage.

'Not to worry, love,' the driver called over his shoulder. 'The boys and carriage will appear as an ordinary cab to any Muggles that catch sight of us. We're going to fly under a standard disillusionment and then we'll land just outside of Skipton and go the rest of the way by road…should take us about six hours depending on the traffic nearer the towns.' Hermione nodded as she delved in her bag for a package of wrapped sandwiches and the parcel that Dumbledore had given her. Nibbling on a corner of a sandwich, Hermione unwrapped the brown paper and smiled softly at the contents.

'Hogwarts: A history, revised edition.' Settling back against the coach, Hermione immersed herself in the book and barely noticed the passage of time; and so was startled when the driver tapped on the roof of the carriage before he hopped down to open the door.

'Millcote, love…are you sure we can't take you the rest of the way?' the driver's kind face wrinkled in concern as he looked at the darkening sky. 'It's getting late and most of the shops around here are all shut up for the night.'

'Thank you,' Hermione stepped out of the carriage with her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of her bag, and her wand clasped firmly in her right hand. 'Mrs McGonagall assured me that she would be sending someone to meet me near the far end of town near the inn…I have my wand and I'm not afraid of the dark, I'll be absolutely fine. Please don't let me keep you from your home, you must be wanting to get back.'

'If you're sure, Miss?' the driver asked, clearly not happy to leave Hermione but he was also feeling rather stiff and chilled from the cool northern air. Hermione nodded again as her ears caught the faint crack of apparition coming from the alley next to the inn. She gave the driver her reassurance once again, and then headed over to the alley where she could see the small figure of a house-elf beckoning from the shadows.

'Missy Grangy?' the elf squeaked in a high pitched voice. 'John beings sent to brings you to Thornfield…John is bad elf for beings late arrivings.' John started running toward the side of the building with the intent of bashing his forehead against the rough bricks, and Hermione clasped him lightly by the shoulder to prevent him from harming himself.

'No need for that, John…My carriage was delayed somewhat by an overturned lorry and I've only just arrived myself,' Hermione smiled gently at the trembling house elf and he straightened his shoulders a little.

'I takes your bag and we go to see Missus McGonagall…she gives you tea and cakes to plump you up. Missy Granger is far too skinny and will freeze without a nice layer of fat under her clothes.' John wrapped his long fingers around Hermione's elbow and with a sharp crack, the two of them vanished.

They reappeared in a dark and somewhat gloomy hallway, and the sound of their arrival had a rather tall and slender woman appearing through a door at the end. Hermione could just see the warm glow of lamplight dispersing the gloom and the woman tutted under her breath and she stepped forward and clasped Hermione's arm gently and pulled her into the cosy room, which Hermione assumed was a small sitting room.

'You poor wee thing, I bet you're half frozen in that skimpy cloak,' the woman said in a soft Scottish burr, as she nudged a sleeping cat out of a chair and bade Hermione to sit down. 'You'll be wanting to replace that with something thicker before winter sets in, it can get fairly cold in a house as old as this one…and we only use the fireplaces and stove as a source of heat. Are you hungry? Or perhaps a pot of tea?' At Hermione's nod, the woman called out for a house-elf, and this time a female appeared; strangely dressed in a black towel and a white mob cap perched precariously over one ear. 'Leah, cut a sandwich or two and prepare a pot of tea; our guest is chilled to the bone and we must make her feel welcome.'

'Yes, missus McGonagall,' Leah bobbed her head and vanished through a door that Hermione had not noticed at first glance; reappearing a few seconds later with a tray containing a pot of tea and two cups, and a plate heaped with small triangles. Mrs McGonagall poured the tea and offered sugar and milk, the former of which was declined with a small shake of refusal.

'Am I to meet Miss McGonagall this evening, or has she retired to bed?' Hermione asked as she sipped her tea, waving away the offer of a sandwich for the present.

'Hmm? Miss McGonagall?' the housekeeper was strangely puzzled but then let out a slight chuckle as she shook her head. 'Ah, you mean Miss Delacour! Fleur Delacour is the name of your charge.'

'Forgive me, I had assumed that my pupil was your daughter,' Hermione apologised as she placed her teacup back in its saucer on the tray. Mrs McGonagall waved her apology away with a smile.

'It's quite alright, my dear…Fleur Delacour is the young ward of Master Severus, I have no family of my own since my husband passed away nigh on twenty years ago.'

'Master Severus?' Hermione parroted, her mind working furiously to try and make the appropriate links. 'I'm a little confused…' Hermione leant her head on her hands and struggled to hide a yawn.

'Ah you poor thing, listen to me babbling on when it's your bed that you'll be wanting,' Mrs McGonagall rose up from her chair and beckoned for Hermione to follow. 'I've had the rooms made up just along the corridor from mine; Fleur is in the east wing and Master Severus has the west…Come, get some rest and I'll answer all of your questions once you've rested.' Hermione followed the housekeeper along the darkened corridors, with only the dim glow from the housekeeper's wand lighting their way. Her room had been prepared and a low burning fire glowed from the grate, Mrs McGonagall pointed out the door to the bathroom, and Hermione was pleased to see that her belongings had been unpacked and a warm nightgown lay across the foot of the bed.

'Breakfast is at eight in the small sitting room, I'll have Leah show you the way. Have a good rest my dear, and I will see you in the morning.' Mrs McGonagall left Hermione in her new rooms and the tired new governess stripped out of her travelling clothes and pulled on her nightgown, thinking that if she ran a bath she would most likely fall asleep and miss the enjoyment of having a private bathroom for the first time in her life.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks for the reviews…I must admit I hadn't even thought of Molly Weasley or Augusta Longbottom; I wasn't planning for many of the Weasley's to make an appearance…I did think of having Ginny play the part of poor Rosamund Oliver, the love struck girl with feelings for Jane's dour cousin, but then I had the idea of having Fred and George appear as the ones to save our heroine out on the moors and perhaps take her to Hogwarts for recuperation, that way we could get to see some more of the canon characters…feedback is always welcome.**

Hermione woke early the next morning, despite her late evening her body clock was used to rising early and so she took a quick bath and then set out to explore the grounds and get a little fresh air. She was on her way back into the manor when she met Mrs McGonagall at the kitchen.

'Ah, another early riser!' the housekeeper said with a smile, 'Thornfield seems to attract those that can't keep abed for more than a few hours…little Fleur being the exception! Did you sleep well, my dear?'

'I did,' Hermione confirmed with a nod, accepting a cup of tea offered by the housekeeper. 'I don't mean to bombard you with questions before we've had breakfast…' Mrs McGonagall liberally doctored her tea with a heaped spoon of sugar and settled back in her chair with a smile.

'It must have been a little confusing, arriving in the dead of night and then having all of those names thrown at you. Let me see if I can explain things a little clearer…I'm Minerva McGonagall and I'm the housekeeper of Thornfield, which is owned by Master Severus Snape. Master Snape is a renowned Potions Master and his research takes him all over the world, which means that we hardly ever see him at Thornfield.'

'And Miss Delacour?'

'Master Severus' ward, he brought her over from Paris when her mother passed away; he asked me to seek a governess for her as he wishes for her to be educated in England rather than at Beaubaxton's in France.' Things were a little clearer for Hermione now, and she sipped her tea feeling more at ease with the whole situation.

'Have you always been housekeeper at Thornfield, Mrs McGonagall?' Hermione asked, accepting a bowl of porridge offered by Leah and drizzling it with a little honey; she noted that the housekeeper preferred the traditional method of sprinkling a little salt over her portion.

'Not always no, I was once a professor at a wizarding school in Scotland but found it difficult to continue after the last war…I taught Master Severus for a brief spell and when he learnt that I intended to leave Hogwarts he offered me a position here.'

'Hogwarts? The headmaster of my last school came from there,' Hermione smiled over her porridge and saw the housekeeper's brief smile in return.

'Albus Dumbledore? You couldn't wish for a finer headmaster.' Both ladies attended to their breakfast and had nearly finished when a slender young girl entered the room, and dipped her head in welcome.

'Bonjour Madame…C'est la ma gouvernante!' the girl addressed the female elf that had followed her into the room, as her slender finger pointed in Hermione's direction.

'Mais oui, certainement.' The elf looked across the room, her large eyes taking in every aspect of Hermione's fairly drab appearance and she nodded in agreement. Hermione rose from the table and smoothed out the skirt of her robes, she addressed Fleur in French, greeting her warmly and then enquiring how she was. Fleur was grinning widely as she replied in rapid French and by the end of the conversation the pair were conversing quite freely as Fleur consumed her breakfast.

'Bless you child,' Mrs McGonagall whispered in Hermione's ear as she was departing the room. 'I've been able to decipher a few words here and there, but my French was never quite up to conversational standards. I've asked Sophie to show you to where you'll be teaching Fleur's lessons.' Mrs McGonagall gestured over to Fleur's house elf and Hermione nodded as her attention was drawn back to Fleur's rapid questioning.

'You're robes are very ugly, did you not bring anything prettier with you?' Fleur asked in fluid French, Hermione replied that she had not and urged the young girl to finish her porridge. 'My mother had grand wardrobes filled with hundreds of dresses and robes, ones in every colour of the rainbow.'

'Did you live with your mother before coming to England, Fleur?' Hermione asked gently, not wanting to bring up any bad memories, but the housekeeper did not know of Fleur's circumstances and so could not warn her of any dangers.

'I lived with my mother in a pretty town near Paris, but Mama has gone to live with the angels and I am all alone.' Fleur replied, sparkling teardrops clinging to the ends of her lashes. 'Monsieur Snape came to rescue me but it's been so long that I've seen him, that I fear he has forgotten all about me.'

'Nonsense Fleur, now let's finish your breakfast and then you can show me around the manor this morning and we'll start our lessons this afternoon.' Hermione kept her tone even but firm as she encourage her new charge to finish her meal, hoping that a full morning without lessons would make Fleur more willing to concentrate in the afternoon. Fleur happily agreed to Hermione's terms and the three of them (Sophie included) spent the morning out in the gardens, gathering fallen leaves and assorted twigs that Hermione planned to use in the practical elements of their afternoon lessons. Just before lunch, Fleur insisted on dragging Hermione over the first and second floors of the manor as she showed her governess all of the perfect places to play hide and seek. When they came to a sturdy door at the end of the corridor that lead to the third storey, Sophie started babbling about 'fantôme' and started backing away, her whole body trembling with fear. Fleur explained that Sophie believed the manor was haunted by the spirit of an evil witch, whose cackling laugher could be heard drifting through the corridors late at night. Hermione chuckled a little, as the only spirits she had encountered had been friends that had passed over, and there certainly wasn't anything evil about Luna!

Hermione raised the subject with Minerva over luncheon, the housekeeper granting permission for Hermione to address her informally. Minerva clucked her tongue at the theatrics of the house elf and said that the only things that were on the third floor were the masters private laboratory and the sewing room that some of the servants used, Grace Rosmerta being one in particular that didn't care to leave the manor's mending to the house elves. Grace also served as the master's brewing assistant whenever he was at home, although that was getting to be a very rare occurrence. Hermione accepted Minerva's explanation and decided that a few lessons in deportment and behaviour were sorely needed by the young French girl, if only to relieve her of her overactive imagination.

The summer months passed into autumn and soon Christmas was upon the Hall, all passed without setting eyes on the master of the house. Hermione released Fleur from her lessons during the run up to the festivities, and the girl would huddle over her desk working on the gifts that she had been making for everyone. Minerva had been giving her knitting lessons by hand, thinking that the girl was too young to rely on everything to be done via magical means, and the housekeeper had also been roped in to helping Fleur with Transfiguring certain elements of her Christmas presents for Hermione, Sophie, Leah and John. All too soon, the winter snows melted into drizzle and January started with dismal mist that hung around long after the sun had risen.

Hermione decided to take a walk into the small wizarding village a few miles past Millcote; it was a tiny village that boasted an Owl post office that shared its space with a bookshop-cum-stationers, a tavern and a tiny sweet shop. She'd received a few letters from Septima via the postal service and wanted to post her reply; Minerva had given her a list of books that she asked Hermione to order at the bookshop and with Fleur safely ensconced in receiving a cookery lesson from Leah, Hermione set off for the village.

It was a clear but chilly day and Hermione breathed in lungful's of crisp air, and resolved to have Fleur spend more time outdoors rather than cooped up in an overheated classroom. Hermione reached the village and took care of her chores, and after browsing the small bookstore for an hour or two made her way back home. She was about a mile away from Thornfield when the air suddenly turned damp and Hermione felt the mists rising up to twine around her ankles. She hurried her pace, suddenly frightened that she might lose her way if the mist grew thicker and then caught her breath as the sound of hoofs beating on damp soil echoed through the twilight.

'Who's there?' she called, bringing her wand forward and casting a bright illumination spell hoping to pierce through the mist. There was a high pitched whinny and then the sound of a low curse, as out of the mists rose a huge, black beast whose eyes glowed red in the darkness; the beast reared up as Hermione's wand wavered in her hand and she whimpered softly as the hooves came within a hairs breath of trampling her. There was a low thud and then a string of curses, and Hermione realised that the beast wasn't alone…

'Blasted chit! Lower that bloody wand and help me to my feet…' the low voice demanded rather than asked politely, and Hermione's hackles rose at his tone.

'If you hadn't have appeared out of nowhere, I wouldn't have had to raise my wand…Now, I suggest you rephrase your demand and it wouldn't hurt to tack on a 'please' in there somewhere either!'

'Very well,' the man's voice deepened a little and Hermione shivered at his now smooth as silk tones. 'I would be very grateful if you would please dim your wand and then help me to my feet…please.' The please was tacked on as an afterthought, but Hermione dimmed the light at the end of her wand and then stepped across the muddy puddles to crouch at the fallen man's side offering her assistance to help him rise. The man growled something low under his breath, and Hermione felt a warm puff of breath at the back of her neck, followed by the swipe of a wet tongue. She let out a muffled shriek and whirled around to see the largest boarhound she had ever seen drooling over the back of her cloak.

'Down Fang!' the man ordered, and the dog immediately plonked himself down…squarely in Hermione's lap, sending her sprawling backwards into the mud. 'For sweet Circe's sake!' the man muttered as he managed to roll over and use a large boulder as a prop so that he could get up. He hobbled over to where Hermione was trapped underneath the boarhound, and her breath was wheezing as the air was forced out of her lungs. The man grabbed hold of the hound's collar and yanked hard, pulling the beast away from Hermione and she pressed a hand to her chest as she fought to regain her breath. 'Are you injured at all?' the man questioned, noting the way her breath hitched slightly whenever she breathed in.

'My ribs are a little sore, but I'm sure they are merely bruised…' Hermione closed her eyes briefly as she made an internal diagnostic, noting that her ribs were a trifle painful but there wasn't a sharp pang so there was no indication of any breaks. The man reached out his arm, encased in dark material and his slender hand seemed to almost glow in the rising moon.

'Allow me…' Hermione accepted his assistance, and sucked in a painful breath as her ribs protested the movement.

'And yourself sir?' she asked, once she was able to speak through the pain. He waved a hand toward his boot and shrugged.

'I'm sure it is just a sprain, I'll have my servant check it as soon as I reach home.' The man whistled softly between his teeth and his dark horse appeared out of the mist, reins trailing on the ground.

'Is that an Abraxan?' Hermione asked softly, her keen eyes picking out the faint outline of the wings folded tight against the horse's body. The man nodded as he limped over to clasp the reins loosely in his hand as he led the Abraxan over to the rock he'd used earlier.

'It is, Merlin comes from a pure bloodline all the way back to the very first,' the man said, his voice soft and gentle as he soothed the nervous beast. 'The hour grows late, you should be off before it gets completely dark…May I offer you a ride home?'

'No need, I'm not too far from home and I think the walk will ease the pain a little,' Hermione refused the ride; the man was a complete stranger for one, and she'd never been too good with heights for another. 'I'll not leave until I see you're able to mount your horse.'

The man grumbled a little as he attempted to shift his weight onto his injured ankle and hissed back a curse as it refused to bear his weight. His horse seemed to instinctively know that his master was in need, so he lowered his body closer to the ground to allow the man to mount. 'There, I've mounted…are you sure I cannot offer you a ride, or perhaps offer some medical assistance?'

'As I said, home is not far and I am more than capable of binding my ribs; I'd rather let them heal naturally than resort to a quick fix spell.' Hermione drew her cloak closer to her body, and let her wand fall as she folded her arm across her waist. The man scanned the distant horizon, seeking out something in the ever growing darkness.

'I know of only two houses within walking distance, one I am sure that you do not belong but perhaps the other? Tell me, do you know who owns the Manor house with the tall battlements?'

'I do, a Master Snape,' Hermione confirmed, and the man was glad that the darkness hid his smirk.

'And have you ever met this Master Snape?'

'No sir, never.'

'He is not at home then?'

'Not at present, no.'

'Can you tell me where he is?'

'I do not.' Hermione grew weary of his line of questioning and wondered whether he was a salesman trying to pitch his wares to the Potion Master. She shifted slightly on her feet and the man smirked again, having used his skills as a Legilimencer to scan her thoughts.

'You are not a servant at the hall, I know that they are all elves apart from the housekeeper…you are?'

'Not that it's any of your business, but I am the governess…Now, if you have finished prying into my personal affairs and that of Master Snape, I'll bid you farewell.' Hermione gathered her cloak tighter around her body and checked that her belongings were still tucked inside the pockets of her robes. She inclined her head and then stepped aside so that the man, his horse and slobbering hound could pass. As soon as they had disappeared into the mists, she made her slow walk back to the Hall - ribs protesting with every step.

Passing through the gates of Thornfield, Hermione felt the house wards accepting her in but they felt stronger than they had since she had first arrived. Letting herself in through the side door, Hermione had expected to see the odd lamp lit in the hallway, but it was brightly lit by the main chandelier and through the open doorway of the dining room she could see the fire blazing high in the hearth. Making her way down the hallway and into Minerva's sitting room, Hermione called out for the housekeeper but instead of being greeted with a cheerful hello she was met by the low woof of a boarhound that bounded over to greet her with a chorus of low barks.

'Oh no you don't…' Hermione warned, taking a careful step backwards and holding an arm protectively across her sore ribs. 'You've caused enough trouble for me today.'

'Oh my dear…you've returned at last!' Minerva bustled into the sitting room, her robes a little more flamboyant than her usual mode of dress. 'I see you've met Fang.'

'We've met before,' Hermione held up her hand and sternly forbade the hound to move closer. 'Stay!'

'My…I've never known him to obey anyone but the master before,' Minerva let out a sigh of disbelief and turned to face her young friend. 'You look a little pale, dear…I told you that the winter months could get chilly and now you've gone and caught a cold.'

'I am perfectly well, Minerva,' Hermione insisted and let a sharp pang from her side made her wince. 'Perhaps 'well' wasn't quite the proper word.' Hermione growled a little under her breath as Fang crept closer and let out a low whine. 'And you needn't think you can get around me with your puppy dog eyes!' Despite her harsh tone, Minerva could see that Hermione gave the hound a brief scratch behind his ears, which made Fang cross his eyes with pleasure.

'You're obviously in pain somewhere, dear…won't you let me help?' Minerva pushed Fang's head away from Hermione's lap and the hound trotted out of the sitting room in search of his master. Hermione's fingers reached up to unclasp her cloak, but she found that she was unable to lift her arm high enough to perform the task without the sharp pain of her ribs stealing her breath.

'Fang and I had a little altercation in the lane…his Master ordered him to sit, and he did so – the only trouble was he chose to sit directly on top of my chest,' Hermione smiled wryly at the housekeeper and nodded toward the dining room. 'If you would be so kind as to send Master Snape's healer in to see me once he has finished tending to his ankle, I would be most grateful.'

'He said that Merlin slipped on some ice in the lane!' Minerva exclaimed and Hermione shook her head.

'I'm afraid that I am the cause of Master Snape's injury, I heard something coming out of the darkness and lit my wand. Merlin reared at the sudden brightness and Master Snape was flipped out of the saddle; you might say that it was Karma that led to my injury, I caused one and was the victim of another.' Minerva clucked her tongue loudly and helped Hermione off with her cloak as she went to fetch Healer Clearwater that Master Severus had summoned all the way from St Mungo's. 


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I absolutely adored the Toby Stephens/Ruth Wilson BBC adaptation of 'Jane Eyre' from a few years back, so will use snippets of their interactions rather than relying wholly on the dialogue as was written in the original.**

 **Lady Sabine of Macayhill; thank you for your reviews for the last three chapters, and I hope that you like this one just as much!**

Master Snape's ankle proved to be nothing more than a sprain, whereas Healer Clearwater diagnosed several cracked ribs for Hermione and bound them up tightly before advising strict bedrest for forty eight hours to give the healing potions time to work. Fleur brought a bouquet of freshly picked flowers into Hermione's room and bemoaned the fact that Monsieur Severus was to give her lessons until Mademoiselle was back on her feet. Minerva had advised Hermione that Master Snape had looked over Hermione's lesson plans and noted that day had been given over to Potions work and he saw no reason for those plans to change. Fleur reported back at lunch time that Monsieur Severus had given her a bunch of ginger root to finely slice, but he hadn't been satisfied with Fleur's methods and so had made her do it again and again until he was satisfied that they were of a consistent thickness.

'Fleur, my sweet…consistency is vital in preparing potions ingredients, you know that.' Hermione frowned at her charge and Fleur nodded slowly.

'But Mademoiselle…ginger is so icky!' Hearing the very English colloquialism spoken with a heavy French accent made Hermione chuckle even harder, and that made her healing ribs ache so she waved Fleur out of the room, warning her to pay strict attention to what 'Monsieur' had to teach. Hermione spent the forty eight hours on enforced bed rest fine tuning her lesson plans for the rest of the year, and by the third day was more than ready to emerge from her chamber. Master Snape confined himself to his potions laboratory for the entire day and Leah popped in and out with sustenance for him; after the evening meal Hermione was reading quietly by the fire when Minerva hustled into the sitting room with an air of urgency.

'Hermione, Master Severus has finished in his laboratory for the day and wishes to see you,' Minerva tugged the book out of Hermione's hand and flicked her wand over Hermione's grey robes to tidy them; the creases smoothed out and the white collar brightened a little but nothing could hide the drabness of the material or the plain cut. 'That will have to do, perhaps we can order some robes in from London to smarten up your wardrobe a little.' Hermione said nothing, just nodded slightly as she followed Minerva along the corridor and stopped when the older woman came to a halt outside a set of double doors. 'Master Severus likes to relax in front of the fire in the library of an evening, he's expecting you…go on child, there's nothing to be afraid of.' As if he could see through solid wood, one of the doors creaked open as if drawn by an invisible hand…

'Miss Granger, I presume?' the Master's silken tones called out from a high backed chair near the fireplace and Minerva gave Hermione a little nudge to enter further into the room. 'Thank you, Minerva…you may leave us for the present.'

'Ah…Mademoiselle Granger!' Fleur's lilting tones called out from a corner of the room, and Hermione's nerves vanished as she took a few paces further, Minerva stepping back out into the hall silently. 'Monsieur Severus, did you bring a _boite_ for Mademoiselle?' Fleur's command of English had improved immensely but she still dropped a few words of her native language into conversation whenever she was excited. Fleur leant over from where she was stroking Fang's fur and looked expectedly at her guardian.

'A _boite_ for Miss Granger? Did you expect a present, Miss Granger?' Master Severus lounged languidly in his chair, almost disappearing into the depths with his figure cloaked entirely in black, from his old fashioned frock coat to his dragon hide boots.

'I hardly know Sir, I've had little experience of them.' Hermione replied in a demure tone, hovering just outside the circle of light cast by the low lamps and the glow of the fire. Master Severus glanced over his shoulder and waved his hand toward the low backed chair on the other side of the fire.

'Come join me by the fire, it pains my neck to talk to you over my shoulder,' Hermione gave him a brief nod of obedience and then settled herself in the low chair with Fang immediately abandoning Fleur to lean against Hermione's legs.

'I see that you have bewitched my hound as well as my horse,' Severus drawled silkily, crossing his long legs at the ankles.

'I did not bewitch your horse, sir. I was waiting for you to go past,' Hermione denied, her fingers stroking the soft fur behind Fang's ears and causing the hound to lean even harder at the skirts of her robes.

'Waiting with your wand lit bright enough to blind even the darkest of creatures…No, you were hovering, waiting to cast your spells like the witch that you are.' Severus replied and then flicked his hand toward the fireplace, making the flames leap higher. Hermione was impressed by his command of wand-less magic, she herself could only cast the simplest of spells in that manner. They sat in silence for a while, before Severus suddenly leant forward in his chair and said; 'Tea?' At Hermione's nod, he called for a house elf and soon a tea tray appeared on the low table that separated the two chairs. Fleur was engrossed in the large gift box that Severus had transported over from his study, and the girl peeled back the layers of tissue paper to find an elaborate set of silk robes that Fleur enthused over. The girl left her guardian sharing tea with her tutor as she ran out of the library clutching the silken garments to her chest in search of Sophie.

'Minerva tells me that you were from Lowood, how long were you there for?' Severus' mouth twisted into a slight grimace as he named the wizarding institution, as compared to Hogwarts it was little more than a slum.

'Eight years, six as a pupil and then two as staff,' Hermione replied, sipping her tea slowly.

'I'm amazed you survived. You're so small, didn't they feed you?'

'Rarely…sir,' Hermione quipped and that raised the corner of Severus' mouth very slightly.

'And how is it that you find yourself here and not still there?'

'I advertised, sir,' Hermione replied calmly and that brought a full smile to Severus' thin lips and he snorted rather loudly as he shook his head.

'Of course you did,' he set his teacup back on the tray and then leant back in his chair, hands laced together loosely in his lap. 'And what of your family?'

'I have none sir,' Hermione replied quietly, setting her teacup down having lost all taste for the liquid.

'None whatsoever?' Severus mused, and seeing the slight flinch flicker across her face took that as a negative. 'Friends?'

'I had a friend once…' Hermione replied, the faint glimmer of tears prickling at the corner of her eyes; 'but she died a long time ago.' Severus dropped his line of questioning, but wanted to keep the flow of conversation going. 'Fleur tells me that you are quite the charm caster.'

'I know enough so that Fleur won't feel lost when she starts attending school properly,' Hermione replied, straightening up in her chair now that the conversation had turned to something she felt more comfortable with.

'Elaborate please, I've read your lesson plans but I'd much rather hear it from you directly,' Severus requested politely and Hermione was only too happy to enthuse about something that she loved.

'We've gone through the levitation, softening and fire-making charms; paying particular attention to the importance of correct wand movements – Fleur's already looking forward to next week when we move onto the dancing charm as I've promised that she can cast it on one of her dolls.'

'Go on,' Severus urged gently, when Hermione paused for breath.

'In Herbology we've been looking at the uses of particular plants and how it links to not only potions ingredients but wider implications. We spend an afternoon in the gardens and then make potions from what we've picked; Fleur can then see the application and she seems to have grasped both subjects a lot easier that way. We extracted the essence from a batch of dittany and then Fleur used the potion on a cut finger that she obtained the next afternoon and was able to see it work for herself.' Hermione paused again and glanced over at Severus who waved his hand for her to continue. 'I've covered basic Astronomy, but as I couldn't lay my hands on a telescope we had to make do with what she could make out with the naked eye.'

'I'll have a suitable one procured and set up in the small room off the lower balcony,' Severus interrupted, and looked rather stern at the thought that Hermione hadn't brought it up sooner. 'Please see to it that I have a full list on my desk tomorrow morning with anything else that you may require.'

'Of course, sir.' Hermione made a notation on a small notepad that she carried in the pocket of her robe and then looked up with a raised eyebrow. 'Should I continue, sir?'

'You mean there's more?' Severus exclaimed, 'my Gods woman, you've already covered most of the first year curriculum at Hogwarts and you say there's more?'

'Only Transfiguration, Defence and a few basic Healing lessons…' Hermione said quietly, 'I'm sorry, sir…I only taught Fleur the same curriculum that is used at Lowood for the younger age groups, I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries.' Severus looked up to see that Hermione's shoulders had slightly hunched inwards and her previous animation had left her face looking pinched and withdrawn.

'My dear Miss Granger, I'm not cross with you in the slightest…on the contrary, I am delighted that you've been able to teach Fleur all that in the short amount of time that you've been at Thornfield…feel free to teach her all that you think she is capable of; you have my complete confidence…Now the hour grows late and you'd better check on your young charge, if not prompted she will stay up far too late gossiping with Sophie.' Hearing the dismissal in his tone, Hermione rose up from the low chair and bid her employer a good evening; he barely acknowledged her leaving as his attention was devoted to watching the flames dancing in the fireplace as he was once again reminded of a woman whose hair was the exact colour of the flames leaping about.

'So, what did you think of the Master, Hermione?' Minerva asked as the two ladies shared a pot of tea the next morning. Severus had taken Fleur on a foraging trip into the nearby woodlands to explain the differences in the types of fungi used in various potions, and so Hermione had been granted an unexpected few hours of leisure.

'He seemed very interested in Fleur's curriculum; but I found him to be changeable and quite intrusive with his line of questioning.' Hermione hadn't intended in being quite that forward with the housekeeper and murmured a swift apology as she bent her head over her teacup.

'No need to apologise, dear.' Minerva assured Hermione with a warm smile as she refreshed their cups with a quick motion of her wand. 'I've grown accustomed to his quick silver nature that I forget how it might seem to one not used to his ways. Master Severus hasn't had the easiest of lives…until nine years ago he was the potions master at Hogwarts but then his brother died and the estate passed to him; with all of the family debt along with it.'

'He seems fairly comfortable now though,' Hermione mused as she glanced around the pleasant room that they were seated in and thought about the promise of a new telescope for Fleur along with the very expensive Abraxan that he had rode in on…those horses went for thousands of galleons at a time dependant on their bloodlines.

'He left Hogwarts to start his own brewing business and that proved very profitable; he now travels all over the world for only the finest of ingredients and has a whole team of brewers working for him in different branches… He's always been a fairly solitary person, but there was a girl once that he was very fond of; but his father refused permission for Master Severus to offer her marriage and she wed another; that seemed to change him even more and he's been alone ever since.' Minerva's thin lips twisted into a moue of displeasure as old memories flittered through her mind. 'I don't think he would have been happy with the girl in the long run as she seemed to treat her new husband very poorly, hating the way he would spend time with his friends and begrudging every moment he spent apart from her…insisted on a full binding ceremony, so the poor lad had little chance of getting out of it however much he came to despair of her in the end. They moved away eventually, and he lost contact with most of his old group; the last I heard they were living somewhere near Massachusetts and he was teaching Defence at the Salem Institute.' Hermione kept her thoughts to herself and merely nodded every now and then, but thoughts of how disappointed Master Severus must have been at the thought of seeing his true love married to another crowded her mind, leaving little room for anything else.


End file.
